Neighbor Dearest(16)

My heart was pounding when his voicemail kicked in.

My voice was shaky. “Hey, Damien.” I cleared my throat. “It’s Chelsea. I have sort of a huge favor to ask, but I’m not sure if it’s something you would even consider. Basically, it’s Arts Night here at the youth center. It’s a huge event, and the biggest artist I had lined up, Marcus Dubois—you might have heard of him—bailed on me. We have all of these sponsors here and are trying to make a good impression and well, this just looks really bad. I’m kind of desperate and freaking out, so—”

BEEP.

His damn answering machine cut me off.

Shit!

Now, I would sound like a total desperado if I called back. Deciding to try to forget about it, I did my best to suck up my embarrassment about having no visual arts presenter. I would explain what happened as best I could and cut my losses.

Feeling completely defeated, I went through the motions, letting the caterer in, helping to set up and eventually greeting the arriving guests with a fake smile on my face.

An entire section of the room that had been set up for Marcus Dubois sat blatantly empty.

Just as I was in the middle of explaining the Dubois situation to another sponsor for what felt like the hundredth time, I heard a deep voice behind me.

“Sorry I’m late.”

When I turned around, Damien was standing there in his classic gray beanie, dressed in all black and smelling like leather and cologne. He was carrying a massive bag around his shoulder. My weak knees felt like they were ready to snap from under me. So shocked, I stood there speechless until I finally found the words to introduce him. “This is—”

“Damien Hennessey,” he interrupted, offering his hand to the woman along with a flash of his perfect teeth that I wanted to run my tongue along. “Chelsea called me to fill in after Dubois cancelled.” He looked at me. “Where do you need me?”

“You can set up right here in this corner.”

Damien followed me and dropped his stuff. Once we were alone, I turned to him. “I can’t believe you came. I didn’t even get to actually ask you to come on the message.”

“It was obvious where you were going with it. And Jesus, you sounded like you were afraid or something. Why were you so nervous to ask me?”

Because I have a major crush on you.

After getting lost in his eyes for a few seconds, I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Anyway, I got here as fast as I could.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I think I do. You look like you’re about to cry. You don’t hide your feelings very well.”

He was right. I could barely contain the tears of relief.

“It really means a lot.”

Damien looked around. “So, what do I do?”

“Okay…did you bring all the supplies you need to paint?”

“Yeah. I have everything.”

“Your workshop starts in a half-hour. All you need to do is create something of your choosing, maybe explain a little bit about how you do what you do, your technique, and then they’ll just ask you some questions at the end. You know, stuff like how you got into this…advice if they want to become an artist…things like that.”

“I can handle that.”

“Seriously, I owe you so much for this.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you a toaster, and now I owe you more.”

My director suddenly pulled me away to mingle with some more of the donors, leaving Damien alone to set up and causing me to miss a majority of his workshop. Eyeing him from time to time, I snuck glances as he wore his mask and spray-painted the canvas he’d set up on an easel.

Finally able to break away, I snuck into his workshop in progress. I was standing behind him and unable to see what he’d actually spray-painted, since the easel was now facing out toward his audience during the question and answer portion.

“How did you get into this?” one of the boys asked.

“Well, when I was a teenager, I was going through a particularly tough time after my father died. It started out as graffiti on property that wasn’t mine.” He held out his palms. “Not condoning that or anything.” They all laughed as he continued, “I accidentally discovered I had a real knack for it and found new places to practice, hoping not to get in trouble. I used it as an escape then. But over the years, it’s become so much more than that. Now, I live for creating images and bringing them to life.”

One of the adults raised her hand then asked, “What do you say to young people who want to become artists themselves?”

Damien addressed his answer to the kids. “You have to find a balance. Most people aren’t lucky enough to make a living doing what they love. So, you have to stay in school, find a practical career at first, get some skills to fall back on but always keep doing what you’re passionate about. I made some smart decisions early on that allow me to spend my days creating art now, but that’s only because I worked hard in school. Now, I’m reaping the benefits.”